


Out of the Park

by rainmonarch



Series: Crop Circles in Ball Fields [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - College/University, Cryptids, Eventual Fluff, Fluff, How Do I Tag, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), this was just going to be baseball but then it snowballed into everything i love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9431258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainmonarch/pseuds/rainmonarch
Summary: What kind of luck is it when aliens are probably real, you're sitting in a hospital waiting room, and your childhood idol walks through the sliding doors? Lance decides it's the weird kind - where the universe decides to turn the world upside down on you and say, "Hey. The world can't be upside down. The universe isn't relative to any stationary objects," and then you're stuck trying to figure out how to fix it. (Good thing the universe likes happy endings.)





	1. Strike One

**Author's Note:**

> so this is the first finished, full length, properly beta'd fic i've done!! i've been working on it since october and just got it back from my beta today, so i'm super excited to post it!!
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!

 

_Whoosh._

“Ughhhhh!” Lance swung his bat at the ground in frustration. The pitching machine spat another ball at home plate, nearly nailing Lance in the shoulder. He cursed. The determined boy readjusted his footing, stared down the machine resting on the pitcher’s mound, and raised the bat over his shoulder. Another ball sped towards him and time moved in slow motion as it grew closer and closer.

_CRACK._

The ball soared over second base, then the outfield, straight over the wooden fence enclosing the baseball diamond. Lance whooped, dropping his bat. A home run! Out of the park! Finally something good! Wait until Hunk hears about this!

A bright flash of white light interrupted Lance’s celebration. After a second of momentary blindness, Lance could almost see the outline of a large diamond in the night sky… He shook his head. He was probably imagining it. Just then, he heard a voice cry out, “Keith!”

He ran towards the source, somewhere beyond the wooden fence. At the edge of the field, the flood lights gave way to an enveloping darkness, where Lance rushed through the gate. He scanned the pitch black meadow. Not too far from where he stood, he could see a single dim headlight. He sprinted towards it.

“Hello? Who’s there? What’s wrong?” he asked, coming upon a small figure crouched over someone lying on the ground. A beat up motorcycle rested beside them, the headlight gleaming, but the dark still blurred all the details. The figure looked up at Lance.

“My friend just got hit in the head with a baseball! He’s knocked out, I’m not sure what to do,” he said. Lance hesitated.

“Sorry, my bad, I was practicing over at the field…” He ran his hand through his hair. “Here, let me take you guys back to the stands, we can get a better look at him there.” Lance scooped up the unconscious boy in his arms, heading back towards the field.

“Wait, what about Keith’s bike?” The other boy said, scrambling after Lance.

“It’ll still be there,” he replied. “No one goes back here ‘cept to find lost balls.” Lance led them through the wooden gate, back into the florescent stadium light. He was able to get a good look at the two there. The boy in his arms – Keith – was pale, thin, and had a mess of black hair that swept wildly about his face. He wore a leather jacket with red fleece sleeves, and a dark shirt underneath – it screamed emo. There was something familiar about him, but Lance couldn’t put his finger on it. Lance could see a purple bump forming on the boy’s forehead. He frowned guiltily.

The other boy with him was very small, with choppy, light brown hair, and large glasses. He had a big backpack, a green hoodie, and held some kind of giant calculator with a triangular antenna sticking out the top in his hand. “So, what were you guys doing back there, anyways?” Lance asked, as he set the blacked out guy on a bench in the bleachers.

“Why are you batting alone at ten o clock at night?” The boy countered.

“Touché…” He gazed down at Keith, concerned about the knot growing on his head. He brushed Keith’s bangs out of the way, admiring how peaceful the boy looked. He began to stir, blinking groggily before snapping his eyes all the way open.

“Pidge! Did you see it?! Did you hear it? It was there!” He sat up quickly, attempting to look at the small boy, but instead bent over and vomited on the metal floor. He groaned. Lance covered his nose and mouth to protect himself from the putrid smell.

“Woah, Keith, take it easy…” The boy – Pidge, Lance learned – pushed Keith gently back onto the bleacher.

“Alright, I’ve seen that before, he’s probably got a concussion. We need to get him to urgent care or something,” Lance told Pidge.

“I don’t need to go anywhere but back in that field!” Keith exclaimed. “Pidge, we were this close!” He tried stand, but immediately keeled over again, slumping into Lance’s lap.

Lance grabbed his drawstring bag from the seat behind him. “Nope, we’re going to the hospital. C’mon, Pidge, I’ll drive you guys.” He scooped Keith back up and walked briskly out of the bleachers. They passed a ginger haired janitor on the way out. “Hey, Coran, I’ve gotta take this guy to the emergency room, can you shut off the lights for me? Pretty please with a cherry on top?” Lance asked. The man twirled his mustache, feigning confliction.

“Oh, alright, Lance. Just for you,” he grinned.

“Thanks Coran, you’re a lifesaver! Hunk would beat my ass when his boss sees the electric bill,” he laughed. “Also, Keith threw up in the bleachers, byyyyeee,” he called back. Coran rolled his eyes at the young ball player, heading towards the mess Keith left. Lance led Pidge towards his small, hand-me-down sedan. Keith came to again as Lance sat him in the front seat, so he gave him a plastic grocery bag. “In case you decide to throw up again,” he explained. Pidge hopped in the back seat, while Lance jogged around to the driver’s side. He started up the car, steering quickly out of the parking lot.

“Who are _you_?” Keith slurred, scowling at Lance. He held a gloved hand up to the bump on his head. Fingerless-gloved – Lance immediately judged him. 

“The name’s Lance,” he introduced cockily. “And I’m saving your life, buddy, so I could do without the dirty looks.” Lance scowled back at Keith, shoving a finger in his direction.

“Look at the road, dumbass!” Pidge shouted from the backseat. Lance swerved back into his lane, causing Keith to puke into his bag.

“Ugh, roll down the windows. That stinks!” Lance blurted. He cranked down his window as fast as he could, gasping at the air rushing in.

Keith glared at him, spitting into the bag. “What, like your driving?”

“My driving is excellent, thankyouverymuch!”

“I’ve got a bag full of barf that says otherwise,” Keith jabbed.

Lance sputtered, unable to evoke a comeback, choosing instead to turn up the volume of the radio. They refused to speak for the rest of the ride to the hospital.

\-----

The nurse took Keith back to a room to diagnose him, and made Lance and Pidge remain behind in the waiting room since they weren’t family. Pidge called Keith’s brother, and then they settled in to wait. Lance munched on a candy bar from the vending machine. Pidge fiddled with his giant calculator-antenna-thing.

“So,” Lance said, a few crumbs tumbling out of his mouth. “What is that thing, anyways?”

Pidge eyed Lance suspiciously, and then glanced back at his gadget. “It’s an electromagnetic radiation detector,” he said. Lance gave him a blank look. “Keith and I like to hunt UFOs, we used this to track one that hangs out at the ball field a lot,” he explained.

Lance leaned back in his chair, anxiety flashing across his face. “Like, aliens?”

“Pidge!” Lance turned around, finding a familiar face calling his new friend’s name.

“Shiro!” Pidge responded, standing up.

“Shiro Kogane? What are you doing here?” Lance asked.

“Pidge called, she said Keith had a concussion?” _She?_

“Yeah, he’s in a room somewhere now, you should go ask the nurse,” Pidge informed. Shiro strode to the reception desk, leaving Lance spluttering and confused. He turned back to the kid beside him.

“She?”

“Yeah,” Pidge settled back in her seat and adjusted her glasses. “She, her, miss, her majesty the queen, Overlord Pidge, they’re all acceptable.”

“Right,” Lance mumbled. He stared off into the middle distance. “ _Shiro Kogane_ is Keith’s brother? Shiro Kogane, best pitcher on the Lakeshore Lions? Shiro Kogane, the guy who’s got his own _baseball card_? Shiro Kogane, the guy I’ve probably had a crush on since I was _twelve_?”

“Yep,” she confirmed. “He doesn’t play anymore though.”

He stared at Pidge in wonder. “And I just almost killed his kid brother.”

“Yeah, you did,” Pidge snickered. She fiddled with the antenna on her detector, which then made a quiet beeping noise. “Ooh, it’s close again…” she muttered.

“He probably _hates_ me now,” Lance worried. He slid down in the uncomfortable chair, pulling at his short hair. “ _Fuck_ …”

Shiro emerged from the backrooms, approaching Pidge and Lance again. He held out his hand to Lance. Taking a closer look, Lance saw the hand was part of a high-tech prosthetic that disappeared under Shiro’s sleeve. Lance wondered what happened. He stood, and took the handshake nervously. “Thank you for bringing Keith here, you didn’t have to do that,” Shiro told Lance. “What’s your name?”

He gulped. “Uh, Lance.”

“Nice to meet you, Lance, I’m Shiro.” He greeted, smiling gently. Lance noticed a long scar stretching across the bridge of his nose. Shiro didn’t look this way on the baseball cards; the something that took his arm probably caused the scar, too. It must have been recent. There was a pause, where Lance supposed he should have said something, but he was in shock. Gah, why was he so stupid?!

“Shiro, how’s Keith?” Pidge hopped out of her chair.

Shiro turned to his brother’s friend. “They say that his brain isn’t bleeding, but they want to keep him overnight for observation. He should be okay to leave tomorrow night,” he explained. “It’s late. You should go home, Pidge.”

“But Shiro, what if something happens?”

“Then you’ll be the first person I call, promise. Lance, are you okay with driving Pidge home? I need to stay here a little longer to fill out paperwork,” Shiro requested.

 “Ye-ah,” Lance’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I can do that,” he said.

“Shiro!”

“Pidge, your mom is probably worried sick about you. I _know_ you snuck out,” he reminded her. She grinned sheepishly. “Visiting hours are in the morning tomorrow, you can come back then,” he suggested.

“Fine…” He gave her a hug then herded the pair of teenagers towards the automatic doors. Shiro disappeared back into the depths of the hospital, and Lance walked back towards the car. Pidge gave him her address, and they drove off into the night.

“You haven’t said a word since the emergency room. Are you okay?” she asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, I guess it’s just that as soon as something goes well for me I almost kill my favorite baseball player’s brother, think a girl is a dude for longer than I should, and to top it off she tells me there’s sciency stuff saying aliens are chilling by my field… I’ve had a pretty rough night,” he responded anxiously.

Pidge cringed at his tone. “O-kay, sorry I asked,” she said, turning back to the passing trees as they flew by.

Lance parked in Pidge’s driveway. “Here’s my number,” she said, handing him a scrap of paper she pulled from her backpack. “You can come see Keith and Shiro again with me tomorrow, just text when you want to pick me up,” she offered.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Lance grinned. A second chance! He would be much more suave in front of Shiro this time! “I’ll text you. Bye!”

Pidge waved after opening her garage, which Lance took as his cue to leave. He hoped she wouldn’t be in too much trouble with her mom. He drove home quietly, contemplating his whole existence. Nighttime driving tended to do that to him.


	2. Strike Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i was planning to do some kind of regular update schedule, but nah. i'll just update when i feel like it (which means the whole thing will probably be online within the month haha)

Lance considered himself a pretty chill guy. He took on the world like he invented swag, regardless of what other people thought. He always tried to lighten the mood with a joke or two, or however many it took for the situation to settle. People loved him, he was the coolest. Cooler than cool. Ice cold.

So cold he started shaking when Pidge mentioned those aliens – if there’s one thing in the universe Lance couldn’t handle, it would be a close encounter of any kind. He had a bad experience as a child… Let’s just say he hates the movie E.T. and move on.

Aliens or not, Lance wasn’t going to pass up another chance to meet his idol, Shiro Kogane. No fucking way. For Lance’s eleventh birthday his brother took him to a Lakeshore Lions game during Shiro’s rookie season, and Lance has aspired to be the best ball player in the world ever since. No one threw a fastball like Shiro, and Lance was ready to learn from the master. (Not to mention, Shiro was the first guy Lance realized he was a little gay for.)

He texted Pidge on Sunday morning, ready to meet the legend again. And maybe apologize to a conscious Keith.

\-----

Lance and Pidge walked quietly into the mint-colored hospital room, shielding their eyes from the sunlight glaring through the window. Keith sat in a bed next to it, eating red jello. Shiro was asleep in a chair across from the bed in an uncomfortable-looking position. Pidge shook him awake. “Shiro, did you sleep here last night? You should have gone home,” she said. He yawned groggily.

“I wanted to stay here for Keith,” he said.

Keith rolled his eyes. “I tried to make him leave, but he wouldn’t,” he chuckled. He scanned Lance curiously. “Who are you?”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “I’m Lance…” Keith still looked puzzled. “I drove you here last night? You threw up in my car,” he reminded him.

“Wait, I remember you… You knocked me out with a baseball, too,” he frowned.

“Well, it wasn’t on purpose!” Lance threw up his hands.

Shiro stood, pulling Lance back. “Woah, Lance. Take it down a notch.” Lance crossed his arms, muttering trivial regrets for taking Keith anywhere.

Pidge went to stand by Keith. “The radiation signals are getting stronger than ever, do you think you’ll be able to go out tonight?” she asked excitedly.

Keith opened his mouth eagerly, but Shiro cut him off. “Not tonight, Pidge. Maybe in a few days, doctor says he’s got to rest.” Pidge pouted.

“Go out? Like, the UFO hunting thing you said yesterday?” Lance asked. His eyes went wide.

“Yeah. Why?” Pidge replied. Just then, the door opened. A tall, young woman in scrubs swayed in, greeting everyone as she lay a clipboard down on the counter.

“Helloooo, nurse,” Lance purred, winking at the blonde beauty. She gave him a look of disgust.

“I’m a doctor, actually,” she enlightened. Keith rolled his eyes.

“Good thing, ‘cause my heart’s gonna stop from looking at you,” he continued smoothly, disregarding the scoffing audience.

Shiro sighed. “Lance, knock it off and let her do her job.” Lance sighed dramatically, collapsing into the chair. _Fine_ , he’d stop, but _only_ because Shiro asked. The doctor pulled a blood pressure cuff out of a drawer to assess Keith’s condition.

“He seems to be healing quickly, but I’d still like to keep him here until after lunch,” she told Shiro.

“Okay. Any instructions for after that?” Shiro asked, not unlike a concerned parent.

“Shiro, she says I’m fine,” Keith insisted.

The doctor chuckled. “Don’t go on any adventures, don’t drive, and don’t spend too much time on your feet. You’ll probably be dizzy for a few days, and maybe have some memory skips, but that should clear up soon. Call in if you have persistent headaches, though, or you start throwing up again. Sometimes it takes a few days for the effects to really set in,” she explained. Keith sighed dejectedly.

“This sucks,” he said. He glared at Lance. The back of Lance’s mind noticed how his violet eyes glinted in the morning sun.

“What are you looking at me for?! This isn’t my fault!” Lance shouted defensively. The doctor slipped into the hall, eyeing the pair warily.

“You’re the one who knocked me out!”

“Yeah? Well maybe if you weren’t out trying to get _abducted_ – “

“Guys!” Pidge interrupted the argument. “Quit bickering, you sound like a married couple – “

“Pssh! Like I’d ever marry him! He’d be lucky to call me a husband!” Lance crossed his arms, turning his nose to the air.

“In your dreams, asshole! I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth,” Keith growled.

“Yeah? Well I wouldn’t marry you if – “

“GUYS.” She cut in again. “As much as I love watching cat fights, I need Keith all healed up so we can catch this UFO!” She glowered poisonously at Lance and Keith. “This is the biggest story we’ve had since we had that lockdown in the old reformatory across town, Keith! You have time to kick Lance’s ass _after_ we get some new material for the show,” she said.

“What? I could totally take – “Lance started.

“Nope. Shh,” Shiro finished, holding up his hand to Lance’s mouth. “Go home, Lance. Sorry, it’s just that you’re starting to cause problems. Pidge is right, my brother doesn’t need the stress,” he told him. Lance pouted, upset that he disappointed Shiro. Again. Today was not off to a good start.

\-----

“Dude, you’re kidding! That’s awesome!” Lance’s very best friend Hunk said, while rearranging the soft pretzels in their machine. Lance was seated on the concession stand counter, narrating last night’s daring rescue of Shiro Kogane’s kid brother and meeting the gorgeous legend himself.

“Yeah it is! He just waltzed right into the hospital, like, ‘Where’s Keith?’, and I was like, ‘He’s in the back room!’” Lance gesticulated dramatically. “And then, get this, the girl, Pidge, she says she and Keith are _UFO hunters_ ,” he said, leaning forward. “She had some kind of thingamajig that they used to track a spaceship here, and she wants to come back looking for it! Apparently it shows up all the time!” Lance threw his hands in the air.

“Aliens? Here? For real? We’re not going to get abducted during a game or anything right? ‘Cause that would really suck, I mean, I’m so close to paying off my textbooks for this semester –“Hunk worried.

“Nah, don’t worry, buddy, what would aliens want with a bunch of ball players? We’re not near as useful as those cows they mutilate in Texas,” Lance teased. He hopped off the counter, leaned up on Hunk’s shoulder, and wiggled his fingers like any good ghost-story-teller. “Besides, I’m sure you’d find a way to hijack the saucer and get away, you’re, like, the best engineer I know!”

“Your faith in my ability to operate alien aircraft is flattering, but I would still like to not get abducted in the first place, dude,” Hunk reasoned. Lance held back while Hunk provided a hot dog and chips to a customer. He was beaming, apparently the guy’s son was on the little league team that was playing that afternoon. “Have a nice day, sir!” Hunk chimed.

Lance hopped back up on the counter, leaning back against the wall next to the concessions window. He pulled out his phone, while Hunk tended to the next customer. “What’ll it be?”

“We’d like two soft pretzels, please.”

“Sure thing!”

Lance whipped his head around. “Pidge?” And sure enough, there she was, flanked by Keith. His long bangs covered the fresh bruise, and very nearly his eyes. His sparkly, purple eyes. They widened in surprise.

“Oh, hey, Lance,” Pidge greeted awkwardly. She waved, then continued pulling out money for the pretzels.

“What are you guys doing here? I thought Shiro said Keith had to rest,” Lance said. He slid back off the counter, turning around to lean across it. Keith rolled his eyes.

Pidge snickered. “Nobody said he couldn’t relax at Shiro’s team’s little league tournament,” she insinuated, pulling the radiation detector out of a hidden pocket just enough for Lance to see.

“Ah, gotcha,” Lance replied, winking and shooting finger guns. Hunk returned with the pretzels, trading for Pidge’s cash. The back door to the concession stand opened, where Hunk’s boss emerged. She started clearing clutter from the back counters. Hunk opened the cash register, fishing for Pidge’s change.

“So you guys are the UF – “Hunk began.

Keith’s hand shot forward, covering Hunk’s mouth. “Shh!” he hissed. He glanced around shiftily at the families roaming the ball park. “You never know who could be listening… “

Pidge knocked his arm down, giving him the side eye. “Sorry, Keith believes there have been some unbeknownst… close encounters,” she explained. Lance froze.

“Hunk!” A British-sounding voice pealed. It was his boss, Allura. “Enough socializing, you need to work!” Keith peeked around the concessions cashier suspiciously at the dark haired employer.

“And that’s my cue to leave! See ya tonight, buddy! You want me to get some pizza for dinner? We can watch that movie you told me about,” Lance suggested, throwing an arm around his friend-and-roommate.

“Yeah, sure, man, sounds good,” Hunk grinned.

“Cool! Adios, bitches!” Lance saluted, heading towards the back door.

“McClain, language!” Allura chided.

“Sorry,” Lance apologized, slipping out. His voice carried back to them, “Don’t miss me too much, Allura! Your Lancelot will return!” She held her hand to her forehead, sighing.

Keith and Pidge laughed. She gathered her change from Hunk and waved. “See ya around, Hunk,” Pidge smiled. The pair headed back towards their seats, across from the dugout. They could see Shiro giving a pregame pep-talk to the kids.

“So, Keith, that guy was kinda cute,” Pidge hinted as they settled on the bleachers.

“Who, the cashier? I mean, he’s not really my type…” Keith pondered.

Pidge punched his shoulder. “No, stupid! Lance!”

“What? No!” Keith snapped. “That guy is irritating as shit, I bet he’d hit on a pet rock.”

“And you’d be jealous,” she laughed.

Keith crossed an arm over his torso, taking a large bite out of his pretzel. “Would not,” he grumbled. He hoped the late-spring heat and black ensemble would justify his flushed cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyy thanks for reading!!  
> check me out on tumblr: @rainmonarch


	3. Single

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so a bit of this chapter was inspired by a picture i drew wayyyy back during inktober, which can be found here: http://rainmonarch.tumblr.com/post/152039319429/inktober-day-19-campus-radio-station-au-the 
> 
> (that is my tumblr if u wanna check it out ;))) )

Keith was not the kind of guy to be attracted to a stranger. He kept to himself, paid attention to his work, spent a lot of time on hobbies – the typical introvert. He was a simple photography major, with a passion for cryptids. He had one or two unrequited crushes in high school, but he generally steered clear of the unnecessary romantic drama that comes with a crush or significant other. There were just too many other things to worry about – like whether or not Bigfoot lived in the Pacific Northwest. Keith believed that there used to be a small clan of hairy bipedal hominids there, but civilization has pushed them northeast, into Canada. Pidge thinks they’ve just figured out how to hide – as if. Has she ever seen _humans_ try to be sneaky? Even the well trained ones? There should be better photographic evidence of Bigfoot if he’s still hanging around.

Anyways. Here he found himself, lying on his small, dorm room bunk, thinking about Lance bridal-carrying him through the parking lot Saturday night. He was cradled comfortably in Lance’s arms. He had been too dizzy to do much about it, but he’s not sure he would have tried very hard to get away from Lance if he had been feeling better. It feels nice to be swept off your feet.

Even if you’re being swept by an obnoxious fucktard.

A gorgeous, tall, smooth-skinned, obnoxious fucktard.

Although, the obnoxious fucktard _did_ seem to show an interest in UFOs. Keith remembered Lance asking about them… _wait_. Lance was there at the ball field. He must have seen it! He and Pidge had an eyewitness! Keith sat up quickly, almost knocking his head against the joists supporting the bunk above him. He raised a hand to the bruised bump, relieved he hadn’t hit it again. He had sneezed earlier, hitting his forehead on the desk. He quit his homework to lie down while the pain ebbed away – he supposed he could get out of the work because of the concussion, but math was his worst subject. He really ought to be doing it… Whatever. He needed to text Pidge. She must’ve had Lance’s number or something, or else they wouldn’t have shown up at the hospital together yesterday. They needed to get an interview.

\-----

_Bzzz._

Pidge rolled over.

_Bzzz._

She frowned, sitting up. A yawn. Reaching for her glasses on the bedside table, turning on the lamp.

_Bzzz._

KrakenKeith(1:26am): do u have lances #

KrakenKeith(1:27am): i need it

KrakenKeith(1:27am): i need to ask him something

Pidge sighed. It has been two days. She could see the attraction between the two almost immediately – they couldn’t stop sneaking glances at each other in the sedan the other night, and Keith wouldn’t shut up about him for the whole game on Sunday – but she couldn’t believe he was already this far down the rabbit hole.

Pukwudgie(1:29am): You realize I have to get up at 5:30, right.

KrakenKeith(1:33am): yes…

KrakenKeith(1:34am): but this is important

KrakenKeith(1:34am): do u have it or not

Pukwudgie(1:35am): Calm your dick, Keith, I got it right here.

Pukwudgie(1:36am): [contact Lance sent]

Pukwudgie(1:36am): Now fuck off and let me sleep.

KrakenKeith(1:36am): i will calm my dick when i feel like it pidge

KrakenKeith(1:37am): not that it needs any calming rn

KrakenKeith(1:37am): thx pidge goodnight

Keith added Lance to his contacts. He almost sent a text, but restrained himself from hitting send – it was two o clock in the morning, after all. Only crazy people are awake at this hour.

\-----

Lance skated to class the next morning, weaving in and out of the other students as he made his way down the large hill on campus. He slammed into the science building, like most mornings, unable to stop the momentum he built racing from his dorm. No one paused to help him with his crash. That was okay – typical Lance, they thought – but he always wished that at least _one_ hot girl would take pity. Seemed like a good way to meet nice girls.

He pulled off the rollerblades, swapping for flip flops, and stood back up. He started towards the front door of the building, but a flyer on the announcements board caught his eye. It read:

_I WANT TO BELIEVE_

_Tuesdays at 9:00pm on the campus radio station 94.2fm_

_or stream at ibelieveinthem.com_

_A show dedicated to your favorite things that go bump in the night, hosted by Keith Kogane and Pidge Holt_

Underneath the text, a blurry picture of some indeterminate figure was circled in red. _Oh my cheese_ , Lance thought. _Keith is the cryptids guy_. Lance had been hearing rumors about this dude all year – people saw him snooping around in the nearby woods with a camera, sneaking into old buildings looking for ghosts, summoning Satan in the middle of the quad. Lance was pretty sure that last one wasn’t true, but after seeing the way Keith liked to dress he wouldn’t put it past him. He scrawled the website and station on his arm in blue pen, intending to tune in that night. This Keith guy was a real character, and Lance wouldn’t mind hearing his voice again. Not that he would admit it to anyone.

Pidge was a senior in high school. She literally did not have the patience for anything at this point. There was less than a month of school left, she was heading to the local university with a full ride scholarship, and she had more important stuff to worry about than the Marxist interpretation of Hamlet.

Stuff like figuring out whatever the fuck this UFO was doing in her town. She and Keith had been tracking it for months, actually catching glimpses of it over the ballpark – it was large and white, shaped almost like a kite. She joked about finding a Star Destroyer, but Keith never got the reference. She made a mental note to have him marathon Star Wars.

Keith was her best friend, despite the fact he was already a sophomore-going-on-junior in college. Her brother, Matt, and Shiro had been on the Lakeshore Lions together, before Shiro’s accident. He pitched and Matt was a batter, so they spent a lot of time practicing together. Naturally, Keith and Pidge spent a lot of time together too, bonding over their mutual love of the unexplained.

She trudged onto the Garrison campus that night, making a beeline for the radio booth in the student union. She knew Keith would already be there, setting up their show for tonight. They didn’t have much to present in the form of new research, but she knew he always kept a list of backup stories in case their investigations didn’t work out.

“Hey,” she greeted, entering the booth. Keith was organizing papers at his desk, setting a few aside for Pidge.

“Sup.”

She grabbed her outline for the night, preparing herself for the stories Keith had planned. As she settled at her respective desk, across from Keith, she asked, “So, loverboy, why was it so imperative to text Lance in the middle of the night?”

“I haven’t texted him yet,” Keith replied, hiding his face behind tousled bangs.

“So it wasn’t very important then, I assume?”

“No, it is! It’s just… kinda weird to get a random text at two in the morning?” Keith suggested, hoping Pidge would drop it.

“I actually went to sleep at a reasonable time last night, Keith,” Pidge stated, folding her hands on the desk. “Explain why you felt the need to waken me from my slumber, and face my due wrath.”

“… Well, it’s just a hunch, but I think Lance saw the UFO the other night!” Keith stammered quickly. The last time he prevented Pidge from sleeping, all his best polaroids disappeared. He didn’t get them back until he had bought her a month’s worth of Starbucks – which is more than you would think, the little shit runs on less than four hours of sleep most days.

“Elaborate.” She had already connected the dots herself, but she loved to see Keith squirm. Ah, the power of fear.

“He was at the ball park that night, and he came out to us just after the white flash, right? He must have seen it! I wanted to see if he would come in for an interview, another eyewitness would give us more credibility.”

“I agree,” she ceded. She glanced at the clock – three minutes until show time. “But I don’t think he’s our guy, Keith. Lance is obviously scared stiff of aliens.” She began turning knobs and pressing buttons, setting up the microphones.

“I think he would do it, just needs to be properly motivated,” Keith contended.

“Oh, are you gonna proposition him, Keith?” She waggled her eyebrows. Keith could feel heat spreading across his ears.

“I regret everything I ever tell you.”

Lance fiddled with the knob on his radio alarm clock, finally adjusting it perfectly in time to hear a Garrison University jingle. He settled on his top bunk as Keith’s voice rang clear through the speaker:

_“Evening, believers. I’m Keith, and welcome to the late show, where we talk about your favorite things that go bump in the night. Tonight we have a special on North Carolina, talking about the Brown Mountain Lights, the Devil’s Tramping Ground, and a relative of Sasquatch’s, the Skunk Ape. Pidge has conducted some interviews and you’ll find the contents pretty convincing. But first, as always, we play the original 1993 X-Files theme song to open the show…”_

Hunk strolled in from the bathroom, toweling his hair dry. “Dude, what are we listening to?” he asked, watching Lance suspiciously.

“My new, very good friend Pidge has a radio show, I’ve learned,” Lance said, closing his eyes and sticking his nose in the air. “I’m just being supportive.”

“Right,” Hunk replied. He had heard Keith introduce himself, and Hunk suspected he was the _real_ reason Lance was listening. It was no secret that Lance was into guys, but he was shyer about being attracted to them. He wouldn’t tell Hunk until it was a full-blown, head-over-heels crush. Lance hadn’t started mumbling about Keith in his sleep yet – a telltale sign of his infatuation – but Hunk figured it was only a matter of time. That’s the way these things went, with Lance. He shrugged, figuring Lance would tell him eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading!! kudos and comments are appreciated :D


	4. Fastball

Hunk was a friendly, astronautical engineering major. Did you read that correctly? Here, he’ll say it again. Astronautical Engineering Major. Notice how it does _not_ say Performing Arts Major. Because he is not. He literally did not sign up for drama. Yet, somehow, he became best friends with the biggest drama queen on campus – and, by extension, became the void Lance threw all his theatrics into.

“ _Hunk_ , what does it _mean_?” he pleaded, lying backwards across a physics lab work table, holding his phone high in the air while resting the back of his hand on his forehead. Hunk continued assembling small pieces of a prototype at the next desk over.

“I dunno, man, read it to me again,” he requested. Hunk humored Lance, but moments like these didn’t always receive his full attention.

Lance opened his phone up, reading back the message.

Unknown Sender Address (1:40pm): Hey, it’s Keith, can I ask you a question?

“I think he just wants to ask you something, dude.”

“Yeah, but _what_ exactly?”

“I guess you’ll just have to text him back and find out,” Hunk suggested, staring intently at the small wires he maneuvered around the prototype.

“ _What?_ ” Lance shrieked. Hunk cringed at the high pitch. “I can’t do _that_! I don’t know what to say!”

“Dude, just be yourself, I don’t know what else to tell you,” Hunk dismissed. He was frustrated with Lance’s interruptions. He needed to finish this project for class tomorrow.

“Hunk, you beautiful sunflower, are completely useless,” Lance crooned, rising from his dramatic recline. He swung his book bag over his shoulder from the floor, heading towards the hall.

“You still love me, though.”

 “This is a fact. See ya later, buddy.” Lance grinned. He pulled out his phone again, contemplating his response to Keith. He finally decided on something neutral and acceptable, then waited anxiously for the reply.

\-----

“Pidge, it’s been two hours, he hasn’t texted back yet,” Keith worried over the phone to Pidge. He could hear the clacking of computer keys from her end; he assumed she was creating code for one of her robots.

“You know, Keith, some people actually have lives.” Pidge throws shade like she gets paid for it.

“I have a life!” he insisted.

“Really? Funny, because last I checked, the only times you left your dorm were for class or investigations.”

Keith snorted. “I go out to Wendy’s sometimes.” Silence on the other end. “Pidge?”

“Keith, I’m going to hang up, and you’re going to go outside, okay?” Don’t be fooled by the question mark; that was absolutely a decree from the queen. Keith sighed. There was a click as she disconnected. He peeked at himself in the mirror – deathly pale skin, especially against his dark clothing. He supposed some Vitamin D wouldn’t hurt, but if he gets tan and ruins his aesthetic, it’s Pidge’s fault. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, grabbed his wallet, and left the dorm building.

Keith wandered aimlessly around campus. He checked his phone often, but there were no new notifications. Not even from the weather app.

Until his phone buzzed.

Keith nearly had a heart attack. He opened up the messaging app quickly, to see what Lance replied.

Lance(4:29pm): Shoot

What? Keith was confused.

Keith(4:30pm): shoot what?

Lance(4:32pm): Dude seriously?

Lance(4:32pm): It just means ask your question haha

Keith(4:33pm): oh ok.

Keith(4:33pm): did u see anything out of the ordinary saturday night? like ufo wise

Keith(4:40pm): lance?

Lance(4:42pm): Sorry, just had to think about it

Lance(4:43pm): Yeah, I guess I did

Keith(4:44pm): awesome!!!

Keith(4:44pm): can i interview u for the radio show pidge and i do?

Lance(4:45pm): Uh, sure I guess. How would that work?

Keith(4:46pm): we could meet up later, i would need to audio record ur answers so i can quote them correctly

Lance(4:47pm): I have a class at six, but I’m free right now

Lance(4:47pm): Wanna just meet at the campus coffee shop in ten?

Keith(4:48pm): sure, sounds good xD

Lance(4:49pm): Oh no

Lance(4:49pm): You didn’t

Keith(4:50pm): what didnt i do

Lance(4:51pm): Please never send me ‘xD’ again

Keith(4:52pm): >:) what am i too scene for u xD

Lance(4:53pm): Stop that or else you can’t interview me

Keith(4:54pm): fiiiiiinnneeee

Keith giggled at his phone. He was entering the coffee shop now, since he hadn’t been far to begin with. He got in line and ordered his usual coffee, hot, black, basic, yet decaf. After receiving it, he settled into a booth by the front window. It gave a great view of the quad, meaning Keith would be able to prepare himself when Lance approached.

He intended to, anyways. Unfortunately, Keith was prone to getting lost in his own thoughts, so when Lance slid into the opposite booth, Keith jumped out of his skin for the second time that afternoon. Lance looked absolutely gorgeous in the soft, coffeehouse light, his skin tone matched the color palette perfectly. Keith would have to have him model at some point. He sipped on a fruity, iced drink, and looked at Keith expectantly.

“Oh good, you found me,” Keith stated, trying to regain his thoughts. Pretty boys should wear bells around their necks, their sneakiness is dangerous.

“I gotta say, I’d recognize that mullet anywhere,” Lance joked.

“It’s not a mullet, though,” Keith replied blankly.

“Whatever,” Lance said, waving the exchange aside. “So, interview?”

“Oh. Right!” He pulled his phone out onto the table, setting it up to record. “This is Keith Kogane, I am interviewing Lance…?”

“McClain.”

“- Lance McClain about a possible UFO sighting.” Keith looked back up at Lance and cleared his throat. “Ok, so first, I want you to describe what happened to you, and then I’ll ask questions,” he instructed.

“Alright.” Lance ran a hand through his short hair. “Well, I was out at the ball field for some personal batting practice – I didn’t make the team again this year so I’ve been out there a lot – and I finally got a good hit in. The ball soared, so I was doing a celebration dance at home plate. You know, like you do. There was this flash of bright, white light, I was blind for half a second. Then I saw this afterimage in the sky, it was shaped kinda like a diamond, I guess? It was there, and then, gone,” he snapped his fingers. “Just like that. Then I heard Pidge yell your name, and I forgot about it.”

Keith nodded. “Did you notice anything before the flash of light? Anything unusual, like electronics acting up, or unexplainable lights?”

Lance shook his head. “No, I was pretty focused on batting. It was one of those times that I really wasn’t aware of anything else,” he explained. “Although, it _did_ seem like the pitching machine might have been pitching faster. I don’t know.”

Keith stopped the recording. “Thanks, Lance, this is good stuff! That’s pretty much what me and Pidge saw,” he smiled, gently. Lance could now see the family resemblance with Shiro.

“No problemo, dude,” Lance replied. “Is that really all you need?”

“It’s enough,” Keith answered. “If I started asking more questions, you might start giving unreliable details. This will definitely back me and Pidge up, though.”

“Gotcha.” Lance sipped his drink. “So I guess you got my number from her, then?”

Keith choked on his drink. “Yeah, sorry,” he coughed. “Sorry, didn’t know how else to reach you.”

“Woah, don’t die, buddy, it’s all good,” Lance laughed. He reached across the table to slap Keith on the back a couple times. Keith’s breathing returned to normal - relatively. Lance reclined comfortably in the booth. “By the way, how’s the head?”

“Oh, it’s good. Just a little sore, no dizziness or anything,” Keith answered. The smile flickered across his lips again – Lance _cared._

“Good to hear!” Finger guns. God, that was so adorably stupid. “Ok, one more question. I’ve been hearing this rumor that you’re a Satan worshipper,” Lance prompted.

“That was _one time_.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Lance’s jaw dropped.

Keith fiddled with the snaps on his fingerless gloves nervously. “Pidge and I discovered a spirit wandering the campus, we held a séance to help it pass over,” Keith explained.

Lance’s eyes went wide. “There’s a ghost? Here?” He curled up, glancing outside to scan for ominous figures.

“There _was_ a ghost,” Keith clarified. “It’s gone now.”

Lance slumped back in his seat. “There are too many scary things in my world right now,” he mumbled.

“They’ve always been around, Lance, especially ghosts. Lingering is kind of their thing,” Keith sniggered.

“Shut up,” he retorted. They sat awkwardly for a moment, Lance fiddled with his straw. Keith fidgeted. “You seem pretty keyed up, dude. Are you stressed about something?” Lance asked.

 _It might be because you’re so attractive_ , Keith thought. “Just classes, exams are gonna kick my ass next week.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Lance said. “You know, a couple of friends of mine are throwing a party Friday night, to blow off some steam before exams. You wanna come with?” Lance carded his hair again.

Now it was time for Keith’s jaw to drop. Did Lance seriously just ask Keith to come to a party with him? No way. That only happens in movies, right?

“Uh, yeah, sure, sounds fun,” Keith heard himself say. Lance’s face lit up like the sun.

“Cool!” His grin turned wicked. “I’ll probably have more fun than you, though. I bet you’ve never even been to a _real_ party, you wouldn’t know how to do it right.”

“We’ll see,” Keith smirked. The back of his mind was flipping a shit, was he actually flirting with Lance right now? Right this very second?

Lance laughed. “Don’t worry, my friend, you’re talking to the party _master_. I’ll text you, it’s a little ways off campus. We can take my car,” he offered. Lance got up from the booth, gathering his things. “See ya, Keith!” And with that he was gone.

Keith leaned back in the booth, attempting to recover from such an unexpected encounter. His heart was beating faster than when the campus ghost had grabbed his shoulder during the séance. _Fuck_. Keith was _screwed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not a fanfiction without a coffee shop, amiright?  
> thanks for reading!! <33


	5. Bases Loaded

“Wait, so is it a date?” Hunk asked.

“No! It’s just two bros, going to a party to blow off some steam,” Lance asserted. Why would he ask _Keith_ on a _date?_ Of all the ridiculous things to think.

“But, it’s just the two of you, going together, right?”

“ _Bros_ , Hunk. _Bros_ ,” he insisted.

“Okay, sure, whatever you say, Lance,” Hunk ceded. He pretended he didn’t hear Lance mumble Keith’s name in his sleep this morning. If the man wants to deny his love, Hunk guesses he has the right.

\-----

Dinner at the Holts’ was always an event. Pidge’s mother loved to entertain, and Shiro loved to cook – a great combination for Matt, Pidge, and Keith. There was always plenty of food to go around, supplemented by tales and shenanigans told by the big brothers themselves. The atmosphere was warm, despite the absence of Pidge’s dad. He was off on some research trip somewhere, but Pidge didn’t mind. When he was away she got to use his home office for a robotics lab and he always came home with some new piece of technology for her. The table overflowed with dishes ranging from soft rolls to mashed potatoes to some heaven-sent casserole. Pidge’s dog and robotic cat lingered under the table. The family dug in.

“So there I was, stripped to my underwear at the top of the bell tower, getting ready to zip line to the ground when – “

“Keith, honey! How are your classes going?” Linda Holt interrupted her son.

“Mom! I wasn’t finished with my story yet!” Matt whined. Pidge snickered, already aware of the not-quite-dinner-appropriate ending to the adventure.

“Katie hasn’t even started college, I don’t want you rubbing off on her!” Linda scolded.

“Come on, Mom, you know I’m not as stupid as him,” Pidge reasoned, rolling her eyes.

“He’s still a terrible role model. Not like Keith, though, he’s a good egg,” she said. Linda might sound like a harsh mother, but she liked to be straightforward with her kids – they always knew exactly what she thought. She absolutely adored Keith, especially once she learned of his high grades. He was a little on the kooky side, sure, but so was her Pidge. “Keith doesn’t go to parties and get drunk off his rocker,” Linda side eyed at Matt. One could say shade runs in the family.

“Actually, I’m planning to go to a party tomorrow night,” Keith replied, simple as describing the weather. There was a dramatic gasp from Pidge’s seat.

“You’re going to a _party_?” she echoed. “My vampire best friend, he has risen from the dead, and found himself a _life_?”

“If I was a vampire I’d already be undead, Pidge.”

“Whose party is it?” she asked. Pidge knew Keith wouldn’t just go to any party, he would want to know someone there… “ _Wait._ ” She leaned forward, watching pink begin to tinge Keith’s cheeks. “Did you talk to Lance about the UFO?”

“Yeah,” Keith answered, suspecting her train of thought.

“Did _Lance_ invite you to a party, Keith?” She was nearly crawling across the table to interrogate Keith, adding a flourish to Lance’s name.

Keith could feel his ears burning. “I can neither confirm nor deny a party invitation from Lance,” he stated, shoveling a large bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

Shiro and Matt watched the dialogue like a ping pong match. “Wait, you mean Lance from the hospital?” Shiro asked. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I changed my mind,” Keith said defiantly.

“Oooooh, Keith’s got a _boy-friend_ ,” Matt teased. Shiro flicked his ear.

“Let the kid have his fun, we can’t all be perpetual bachelors,” he ragged. Matt stuck out his tongue at Shiro.

“He’s not my boyfriend! We’re just going as friends,” Keith insisted. At least, that’s what he assumed. Lance was so obviously straight…

Shiro smiled. “Okay, Keith, I believe you. Just, party responsibly, okay? And watch your head, it hasn’t even been a week since you got out of the hospital.”

“Sure, sure,” Keith replied. Shiro’s mother hen attitude was annoying, but endearing. He’d be good, nothing was worse than letting down Shiro.

\-----

“Pidge, I have no idea what to wear to a party,” Keith confessed, once again on the phone with the younger girl. He had pulled every item of clothing he owned out of his college-provided wardrobe Friday afternoon – mainly t-shirts and skinny jeans, ranging over a few dark colors – much to the dismay of his roommate. She had told him to wear something “not wrinkly” before she sought out refuge in her best friend’s room down the hall. Keith became all the more nervous as he _saw_ the wrinkles forming in the ‘maybe’ pile on the floor.

Pidge offered little to no advice. Typical. Although, he guessed Pidge had no idea what to wear to a party either, she spent most of _her_ free time arguing with AIs.

\-----

Lancinator(8:45pm): Which dorm are you in?

UnKeithed(8:47pm): southside warner

Lancinator(8:55pm): I’m outside

Lance leaned against the front door of his car across the street from Keith’s dorm. He felt very nervous – he wasn’t sure why though. He had been to plenty of Rolo’s parties before. He thought for a moment, recalling that Rolo’s friend Nyma – the hottest babe who ever babed, in Lance’s professional opinion – was single now. That must be it. He’s just pressuring himself to make a move.

Lance had traded his typical army jacket with a snazzier, blue, varsity style jacket for the party. The rest of his ensemble was comfortable – a baseball tee, jeans, Chucks. He didn’t want to look like he was trying to hard – both for Nyma, and Keith. The trick to being the Party Master was making it look _effortless._

But of course Keith would try to make him look bad.

He approached from the dorm building, stunning Lance. He wore a maroon button down, with short sleeves and a floral micropattern, and black skinny jeans. His hair was pulled into a messy bun at the crown of his head, with a headband pulling back the flyaways. Keith’s eyes glittered in the last light of day, like some strange nocturnal animal emerging from its burrow.

“Hey, Lance,” Keith greeted. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, shuffling his feet when he paused in front of the car.

“Hi,” Lance pushed out. He was suddenly overwhelmed with how casual he had dressed; Keith was _so_ trying to make him look bad. “You ready?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. Good. Neato.”

“Ok, if I’m not allowed to type ‘xD’ when I text you, you’re not allowed to call something ‘neato’,” Keith teased.

“If something is neato, I’m gonna call it neato. And you’re pretty fucking neato, Keith, so get off my dick,” Lance retorted, crossing his arms.

Keith stuttered, “Whatever,” then stalked to the passenger side. “Let’s go.”

Lance hopped into the car. “Sure thing, Miss Daisy,” he alluded, grinning at his victory. Keith rolled his eyes. Wow, a whole night of sassy Keith eye rolls, Lance was so excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i knowww this chapter is a little short but the next one is long promise!!
> 
> i guess if you've read this far you're in for the long haul so hello yes i love you thank you for reading


	6. Screwball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: underage drinking!!! minor weed mention!! 
> 
> so i have a playlist to go with this chapter (all music that has inspired me for it) It can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTBSQKh8teE&index=2&list=PLTpsV3KSrkOsIZfk708_dDFW-w-xytb99

Lance rolled up to the frat house, parking on the street. He got out, then ran around to the trunk to retrieve something while Keith took in the scene. The house appeared to have two or three stories, with a wrap-around porch and a multi-faceted roof. The party was already in full swing, people spilling out the front door and loud music pulsing through the ground. Lance returned from the trunk with a case of Redd’s Strawberry Ale.

“Where did you get that? Aren’t you like, 20?” Keith asked.

“19, actually. But when you’re the party master, you can get a favor from anybody,” Lance smirked. They started towards the house.

“Lance, my man!” A voice called. A tall guy approached, sporting a backwards baseball cap and a winter vest with no shirt.

“Rolo! Sup, buddy!” Lance swapped the case to one arm, throwing the other around Rolo’s shoulders. “This is Keith, he needed a night off,” Lance introduced.

“Where’s your shirt?” Keith blurted. He immediately shot a hand over his mouth. The damn thing never seemed to have a filter.

“Oh shit, dude, I don’t know!” Rolo looked down at his mostly bare chest with a mellow laugh. Taking a closer look, Keith noticed his bloodshot eyes – the guy was stoned. A girl swayed into the yard from the porch, holding a drawstring bag filled with something heavy.

“Hey, Lance,” she said, giving him a coy smile. Lance blushed furiously, straightening up immediately for her. She _was_ rather pretty, with long blond hair framing violet eyes – although Keith suspected her crop top was a large contributor to his reaction. Lance twisted his face into flirt-mode, which Keith found very obnoxious. _Classic_ , he snorted to himself.

“Hey, Nyma,” Lance purred. “Great Keymaster, accept my humble sacrifice and allow us to enter thy celebration!” He knelt to the ground, offering his car keys to her. She giggled. Keith scoffed. Rolo bounded off, presumably to welcome more partygoers.

Nyma tossed the keys into her bag. “The Keymaster accepts your noble offering.” She bent down, eyelevel with Lance. “Have fun tonight,” she murmured, kissing him lightly on the forehead. Lance looked like he might have an aneurism. Nyma strolled after Rolo.

“Alright, loverboy, let’s go inside,” Keith said. He yanked Lance up by the elbow, pulling him into the house. Throngs of people were scattered in every available corner, with a narrow pathway leading to the kitchen and common room. Lance took the lead. Shouts echoed over the indie rock that blasted out of some hidden speakers, greeting Lance. Keith shadowed him into the kitchen, accepting the beer Lance offered after setting the case on the counter with several others.

Lance took a long swig from his bottle, wiped his arm across his face, and then yelled to the adjacent common room, “The Party Master has arrived!” A loud cheer erupted from the crowd.

“Aren’t you driving us home later?”

Lance leered at Keith. “You say that like we’re going home before dawn.” A sly grin. What had Keith gotten himself into?

Fuck it. He was going to party with this cute boy, and he was going to have fun. Even if he had to stay at some stranger’s house all night to do it. That just meant more time with Lance, right? He tipped his bottle to the sky, taking a gulp the way Lance did. The beer flooded across his tongue, slightly sweet, weird in a way Keith couldn’t describe, followed by a prickliness characteristic of soda and warmth spreading down his throat. He was surprised; his whole life he had heard how nasty beer was, but this tasted pretty good. He looked at the label.

“So, strawberry ale, huh?”

“Hey, I like it!” Lance challenged. “The way I see it, if you’re gonna drink for fun, it better be something that tastes good! Regular beer tastes like dirty socks, and I’m not about that.”

Keith held up his hands in surrender. “Woah, not judging, just curious,” he laughed. Lance huffed.

“Sure.”

\-----

A few drinks later, Lance found himself with Keith in his arms once again.

They had been socializing, Lance introducing Keith to people so he wouldn’t be a “creepy recluse with no actual life”. It was an awkward and uncomfortable chore, but somebody had to do it. Keith just wanted to pet the dog, and told Lance that maybe he _wants_ to be a recluse. Spiders are “cool as fuck”.

“Keith, I swear to god, if you describe spiders positively one more time I’m going to block you.”

“You know, sometimes I think about getting a pet tarantula, they’re supposed to be real chill little dudes,” Keith babbled. He paused, as if imagining a spider as man’s best friend, then burst into giggles. Lance pulled out his phone, hit the ‘block’ button on Keith’s number, shoved it in Keith’s face and Keith continued to laugh.

“Why am I called ‘UnKeithed’?” he tittered.

Lance opened his mouth to defend his totally awesome choice of contact name, but then a familiar beat began to play. Without any thought, he grabbed Keith’s hand, and pulled him to an empty space on the back porch. There, the dancing began.

The genre was electro-swing, meaning Lance could appropriately crack out the new moves he had learned in Swing Dance Club. He had joined just for a moment like this, to show off and strut his stuff, impressing everyone. Although, he always imagined his partner would be a girl – not drunk Keith, the cryptid loner with two left feet.

The song ended abruptly, Lance holding Keith in a dip, Keith holding on for dear life. There was applause and several wolf-whistles from the company on the back porch as Lance pulled his partner back up. Keith’s eyes were shining saucers, accented by stray hairs pulled loose from his headband.

“You can _dance_?” Keith slurred, still gripping onto Lance’s forearm so he wouldn’t fall over.

“Yeah, I can dance,” he replied smugly.

“Whaaat? That is so, like, crazy, dude, that you can dance.”

Lance laughed. “So you don’t mind that I led?” he asked, knowing it was a little odd to dance with another guy.

“Hell no, I’m gay as _fuck!_ ” Keith announced. “But shhhh, only Pidge knows,” he stage-whispered, giggling. Lance paused at this new information – some part of him was celebrating, but Lance couldn’t figure out which one. He decided to try again in the morning, when his thoughts weren’t all mangled together. He laughed at Keith’s exaggerated expressions.

“No problemo, buddy, my lips are sealed.”

He started back inside, and Keith attempted to follow. Emphasis on ‘attempted’; he tripped over his own foot and fell onto the taller boy. He instinctively pulled his arms tight around Lance, preventing a collapse to the floor.

“You’re such a fucking lightweight, dude,” Lance chuckled, pulling Keith up.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Nooooo.”

“Yeahhhh.”

Lance still held Keith upright. Keith touched Lance’s nose. “Boop.” He giggled, leaning back so far he almost fell over again.

“Alright, we’re going inside,” Lance said, holding an arm around Keith’s waist. He led Keith through the house, intending to take him to a bedroom for sleep, but Keith screeched to a halt in front of a half empty room.

“ _Lance_ ,” he said.

“Keith, come on, you need to go to bed, man.”

“I _challenge_ you to _Mario Kart_.” Keith gave his friend the most serious look – which is saying a lot, for someone like Keith.

“Oh, you’re on.” Challenge accepted. As if he could resist. Especially against drunk Keith – Lance had this in the bag! They found their way to the couch in the game room, calling next match. “Dibs on player one!”

“What? No, challenger is player one!”

“Well, blue is my favorite color, so,” Lance argued.

“That’s stupid,” Keith garbled. “Rock paper scissors.”

Lance won the first round. “Two outta three!” Keith insisted. Lance won again – Keith couldn’t make his hands move fast enough to beat the boy with a tolerance. He couldn’t wait to get the race started so that Lance could see his _true_ potential – Keith considered himself an excellent driver. Lance cackled at his minor victory, feeling Lady Luck bless him for the race.

They settled in, gripping the Wii remotes, as the first countdown began. Keith had selected the Star Cup, meaning that Lance would have to maneuver around city streets, electricity in water tunnels, and avoid falling off of a giant maple tree…. Oh dear.

3… 2… 1…

Go!

Almost immediately Lance had difficulty operating the video game – so many controls and factors were getting lost in his muddled brain. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Still, Keith was having an even harder time avoiding walls and green shells and other large obstacles. They finished the first race in eleventh and twelfth place, Lance slightly ahead of Keith.

One of Lance’s buddies in the room gave him a shot of whiskey for winning – apparently they were having a Mario Kart Drinking Tournament, so of course he had to participate. The Party Master plays all drinking games he runs into. How else would he make friends?

The next two races ended similarly, Keith getting more frustrated as the game went on. However, Lance was quickly becoming too inebriated to drive through the tough courses – Keith actually managed to finish ahead of Lance in the last race. One of the college students offered him the victory shot, which he took hesitantly. Keith’s eyes met Lance’s for a quick moment before he threw back the drink and promptly spit it back into the cup. Lance howled in laughter at Keith’s scrunched up expression and the smaller boy joined in, not entirely sure what he was laughing at – he just loved Lance’s joy.

Lance was awarded a throw pillow for scoring higher in the Grand Prix – it was a pretty fucking cool pillow, it had a picture of Crash Bandicoot and Lance was so excited to sleep on it – and he held it under one arm while trying to lead Keith out of the room. The hammered pair stumbled up the stairs, down the hall, eventually finding a room with a bed where people weren’t having sex. They were simple criteria, but in a house full of drunk college kids, empty rooms could be hard to come by.

Lance caught a final glance at the clock before passing out: 3:15am. What a night.

\-----

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” a familiar voice shouted. Wait, no, they might have been talking normally. Whatever. Keith didn’t care. He just wanted this splitting headache to go away.

“Come on, wakey wakey eggs and bakey!”

Keith groaned. He rolled off his stomach, onto his side, trying to open his eyes. Woah. No – yep. Ow. Bad idea. Keith will stay here and die, thankyouverymuch.

“I brought you a bottle of water and a burger, greasy food is the best cure for a hangover, you know.” Man, this guy didn’t know how to shut up… Who did Keith know that never stopped talking? Right, Lance. What was Lance doing in his dorm?

“Dude, I promise, the sooner you get up and drink some water, the sooner you’ll feel better. You’re talking to a seasoned partier.”

“Party master,” Keith mumbled. The words were ringing in his head.

“The one and only. How’s your memory?” Lance chuckled.

Keith – he couldn’t remember anything. Nada. He could almost see himself drinking pink beer and Lance calling him a spider, but that had to be a dream, right?

“S’gone,” he mumbled. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

Keith opened his eyes, finally, squinting through what appeared to be midday sun. A clock on the wall showed the time as 11:30 or so. The room was unfamiliar, filled with someone else’s keepsakes. Keith accepted the water that Lance held out, chugging it. Lance had also provided some aspirin, and when he felt the meds start to kick in, he asked Lance where they were, exactly.

“This is Rolo’s room, actually! He was stoned enough to let us borrow his bed,” Lance said. His eyebrows did something wiggly, causing Keith to blush. What had they done in Rolo’s bed? He took a quick inventory, pleased to find that he still had clothing. However, his bun had fallen out sometime during the night and the headband had disappeared.

“What happened last night?” Keith asked, running a hand through his tangled hair.

“Your first party, dude!”

“I’ve been to a party before.” Keith thought back to Pidge’s eighteenth birthday – they had camped out on a nearby mountain with reported UFO sightings. Nothing appeared, but a night eating whipped cream from a can and playing Pokémon with his best friend was one of the best memories he had.

“Yeah, but not a _Lance_ party. What did you think?” he asked.

“I guess it was okay until now,” Keith teased. He laughed lightly at Lance’s offended expression. “I don’t feel very relaxed though, I think that part was a bust.”

Lance’s face shifted again, to something more like ‘ _What is_ wrong _with you?’_

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. I just prefer a different kind of relaxation, that’s all,” Keith countered. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore,” Lance stated. A smile tugged at his lips. Keith wanted to make it bigger – Lance had a small dimple that he adored.

“How about this: Tonight I’ll show you how _I_ like to relax, and _then_ we can decide if we’re destined for friendship,” Keith suggested. He shot a lopsided smile at the other.

“Okay…” Lance said. “No alien hunting, though, please?” He whipped out his most powerful puppy-dog eyes.

Keith laughed. “Don’t worry, no aliens. Cross my heart.” That appeased Lance. He grinned wide. There was the dimple!

“Can’t wait! What are we doing, then?”

“I think I’d like to keep it a surprise, it’s more fun that way.”

“Aw, but Keeeiiitthhhh,” Lance whined.

“Shut up, you’ll live. It’s only an afternoon,” Keith said, punching Lance lightly on the shoulder. “Take me home, I need to get some stuff together and rid myself of this hangover. You could meet me at my dorm at six?” he smiled, rising slowly from the bed.

“Yeah, okay!” Lance stood up quickly, already feeling well.

\-----

Lance was lost in his thoughts again as he drove home from Keith’s dorm. He didn’t tell Keith – for obvious, embarrassing reasons – that he had woken up as the little spoon. It was so comfortable, and he was so cute without that semi-permanent scowl, and he smelled so fresh and clean, despite having just spent the whole night partying. But if Keith somehow remembered, Lance would deny it ever happened. Lance wasn’t what you would call “experienced” in the romance department, but he figured it was a given that you don’t tell your crush that you spooned all night after getting drunk. Especially when said crush said “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth,” less than a week ago. And they couldn’t stop fighting over everything, Lance wondered if Keith did more than tolerate him. What if he just feels indebted to Lance and this is how he’s trying to make up for it?

Anywho, Keith seemed to like him well enough now. He _had_ just invited Lance on a secret, relaxing excursion at six that night. He glanced at the clock: 12:43. Today was going to be long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told you it would be longer :P
> 
> also, did yall catch that dan and phil reference


	7. You're Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: more weed mentioned!!

Lance strolled up to the entrance of Southside Warner, finding Keith leaning against the wall outside. “Hey, dude,” Keith greeted. His bangs were perfectly windswept, his violet eyes – seriously, how is that even a real eye color? – glinted from underneath them, and his stupid mullet was tucked into the high collar of a red, cropped jacket. Fingerless gloves, mullets, flipped up collars – Keith shouldn’t be able to pull off such monstrous fashion choices. “You ready to go?” he asked in a husky, tenor voice. He gestured towards his motorcycle, and the whole image fit the classic badboy cliché in a way that Lance couldn’t get enough of. His facial expression was mild, but Lance could see something fiery behind Keith’s eyes, some sort of wild spirit lived inside Keith and Lance got the notion he was about to meet it.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going first, mullet?”

“Nah, still a secret,” Keith cocked a smile. “Here.” He handed Lance a motorcycle helmet from the seat of the bike. “It might be a little loose, Shiro’s head is a little bigger than yours. Literally, anyways,” Keith cracked.

“This is Shiro’s helmet? Woahh…” Lance admired the plain black headgear like an ancient relic. “Wait, are you insulting me?”

Keith gave Lance a taunting look, then straddled the bike. “Get on, loser,” he said. Lance obliged, clipping the helmet on quickly and hopping behind Keith. He roared the bike to life and Lance guessed that the helmets must be connected to it, because an electronic screen popped up inside the visor. Keith had donned a helmet as well, one in red to match the motorcycle. Lance heard Keith’s voice crackle through speakers inside the helmet.

“Hold on tight,” he instructed, flipping back the kickstand and driving away from the curb. Lance tightened his arms around Keith’s waist, feeling the beginnings of an adrenaline rush. Keith drove like a madman. He barely slowed for curves and turns, wove in between cars like they were merely stationary obstacles, and was always at least ten miles over the speed limit (but usually more). It was a wonder that no cops pulled them over.

“I’ve never seen helmets like this before, where did you get them?” Lance asked. He knew the roar of the engine drowned out his voice, but he assumed the helmet had a microphone like Keith’s. He watched the changing numbers on the edge of his vision – a speedometer, the temperature, the time, and a fraction that Lance couldn’t identify.

Keith banked at an intersection, then answered, “Pidge whipped them up for me.”

“What! Seriously?”

“Yeah, she’s real good at this kind of thing. I swear, if she wasn’t so apathetic she could be a supervillain,” he laughed. What a lovely sound, a caramelized tone.

“She lacks the theatrics for it,” Lance agreed. He heard Keith chuckle. Success.

They rode in silence for the next forty-five minutes or so. They were long out of town, riding down an old highway that began to creep up a mountain. The sun sank lower in the sky and Lance felt his curiosity grow brighter. He knew Keith was into some pretty creepy stuff, and it made that old rhyme ring in his head: Curiosity killed the cat, the satisfaction brought it back. He hoped Keith’s idea of a relaxing time didn’t get him killed. Even _if_ satisfaction brings him back.

Keith eventually exited the highway, onto a dirt road near the peak. The forest swallowed them briefly. The sun and orange sky peeked through the trees, giving the whole scene an ethereal glow that Lance assumed was the reason Keith liked it up here. The forest felt timeless. They came to a clearing soon, a patch of dirt maybe 40 feet wide, walled in by sheer rock faces on either side, ending in a cliff facing the town. Keith parked the bike.

Lance slid off it quickly, losing the helmet, to take in the view. The sun set to their backs, behind the mountain, while night fell and the town began to light up in the valley below them. The brightest stars began to sparkle in the navy blue horizon – Lance could pick out Venus by its brilliant glow. The drop off was steep, but the forest grew up around the bottom creating a sort of green carpet that petered out as it reached the town.

“Keith, this is beautiful.” He turned back to the boy on the bike with his awe-inspired smile. Keith pulled off his helmet, releasing the wild black mane he called hair. If Lance didn’t think he rocked it so well, he would have told Keith to go back to the eighties. Keith smiled that gentle grin again – it was beginning to become a Keith Thing rather than a Shiro Thing, and Lance didn’t mind one bit.

“Glad you like it. Wanna get the fire going?” Keith leads him to a campsite that Lance had missed during his initial sweep. There was a small tent, a fire pit, and a cooler that Lance assumed contained some goodies for later. Keith pulled out a lighter to set the already-prepared sticks ablaze. Lance stood by the cliff, watching lights flicker on in the valley. Keith pulls out some hotdogs and marshmallows (and the proper condiments for each), and the boys have the perfect campfire dinner. (And maybe a small marshmallow war).

“So, do I win? Are you relaxed?” Keith asked. He sat cross-legged near Lance, who had settled on his side.

“Who said it was a competition? If it was, you know that my party was way more fun,” Lance smirked.

“I didn’t say fun, I said relaxed. You’re avoiding the question.” He poked Lance’s forehead. Lance rolled onto his back and stuck his tongue out.

“Okay, fine, maybe I am relaxed. But we never said anything about winning – just if we can be friends,” Lance pointed out.

“I think we could be friends,” Keith said. His smile seemed more tentative than usual.

“Me too, buddy!” Lance grinned wide. “Cool. So, now what?”

“Huh, I’m not sure.” Keith leaned back on his hands, his lips turned in a pout as he thought. He hadn’t planned much further than this.

Lance stroked an imaginary beard. “Got it!” he exclaimed, throwing a finger in the air. “Twenty questions! Best way to get to know new friends!”

“What?”

“You know, I ask a question, you ask a question, we learn. It’s fun,” Lance explained. “Don’t tell me you’ve never played.”

“Sorry, haven’t,” Keith replied. He ignored Lance’s usual _How Are You Even Real?_ Face. “You first, I guess?”

“Sure. I’ll go easy on you.” Lance winked. “What’s your major?” He rolled to his stomach, facing Keith, with his chin in his hands and his feet kicking behind him.

“Photography,” Keith answered. “What’s yours?”

“Marine biology,” Lance said. “Is that why people told me you were running around in the woods with a camera? Everyone says you were looking for Mothman or something.”

“I guess? But I was just taking pictures of the trees. I wanted the photos to be blurry so I moved around as much as I could,” he laughed. “People really think I was looking for Mothman? He doesn’t live in Georgia, he’s from West Virginia.” Keith looked puzzled.

“I love how your first reaction isn’t ‘that’s stupid, Mothman’s not real’, it was ‘that’s stupid, Mothman doesn’t live here’,” Lance chuckled.

“Fight me, Lance!”

Lance giggled. Keith chose the oddest things to be serious about. “Whatever, your turn, dude,” he told Keith.

“How are you majoring in marine biology? We’re landlocked here,” Keith asked.

“We have a small aquarium in the biology department, and we go into Atlanta if we want to practice with larger animals. The otters there are adorable,” he explained. “I would have gone to school in Florida or California, but I got a scholarship to Garrison that I couldn’t pass up.”

“Ah, I understand.” They were quiet for a moment. Lance rolled onto his back again.

“Let’s see… What’s it like having Shiro Kogane as a brother? He’s like, my hero,” Lance said, tucking his arms behind his head.

“Uh, I don’t know. Shiro’s just my brother – half-brother, technically. I knew him before he got into baseball, he’s just Shiro to me,” Keith responded.

“That’s the other thing I wanted to ask, Shiro can’t be his real name, right? What is it?”

Keith paused for a moment, gathering his words. “Um, well, his real name is Takashi. Our dad is Japanese, so our names are too. ‘Kogane’ means ‘gold’ in Japanese, so his mom started calling him Shiro – white gold – and it stuck,” Keith revealed. “When they adopted me, she called me Rozu – so that I could be Rose Gold – but Shiro and I always liked the way Keith sounded better. Besides, I don’t think she had a very good understanding of the language, none of the translations I’ve looked at work the way she wanted them to,” he said, with a small smile.

“You’re adopted?” Lance was surprised, he never met anyone who had been adopted before (as far as he knew, anyways).

 “I think it’s my turn to ask a couple questions, now, right?” Keith redirected. This got really personal really quick, and Keith was not ready.

“Oh, sure, sorry! I get carried away sometimes,” Lance gave a sheepish expression.

“It’s okay,” Keith replied. He looked up at the now-dark sky, pondering his next question. The fire crackled beside them, a gentle wind blew through the trees. “What’s your favorite constellation, Lance?”

“Huh. I don’t know.” He gazed up at the sky with Keith. “Show me some? Then I can pick.”

“Yeah, okay.” Keith laid down beside Lance, resting one hand on his stomach, and using the other to point out constellations. “There’s the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, or Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. They’re supposed to be bears, but they have long tails so people thought they looked more like water ladles.” He gestured in another direction. “That’s Cassiopeia, she’s a queen so it’s supposed to be her on a throne. That’s Hercules, and that’s Gemini. And this one over here, on the horizon, it’s Scorpius. That’s my zodiac constellation,” Keith babbled.

“I didn’t know you could talk so much when you were sober, Keith,” Lance teased.

“Well, I can.”

“Well, I think I like the Big Dipper. Seems like a classic. Is it my turn now?” Lance asked.

“No, I get one more. What’s your zodiac?” Keith liked to know, just so he could feel reinforced by the stars.

“Leo,” Lance grinned. “The most beautiful out of all the signs, don’t you know.”

“I should have guessed,” Keith mirrored Lance’s smile. Scorpio and Leo – Keith would have to read up on that later.

“Okay, now it’s my turn. So you’re into all of this cryptid-supernatural-alien shit, and you’re a photography major. You must have some good photos somewhere, right?” Lance posed.

Keith thought for a moment. “Yeah, I’ve actually got some polaroids of UFOs in my bag! I can pull them out later, if you want.”

“Dude, that would be awesome!” Lance gazed back up at the sky. “Not yet though, I like laying here.”

Keith blushed. “Me too,” he agreed. “So it’s my turn again?” Lance nodded his head gently. “How did you and Rolo meet? I know you’re not in his frat, I’ve seen you leaving the dorm across campus from mine.”

“Now _there’s_ a funny story, Keith,” Lance introduced. He sat up to face Keith properly, despite just saying how he liked to lie on the ground. “So back when I was a young and innocent freshman, Rolo was in his first senior year and _thisclose_ to flunking out. I was one of several little geniuses he recruited to support him through such a hard time. Nyma, she’s like, his bff, would go around and flirt with several of us, and convince us to do her homework or whatever, but it actually turned out to be _Rolo’s_ homework. So here I am, thinking I’m winning over this totally hot junior with my superior looks, charm, and wit – “

Keith snorted.

 “Shut up, Keith, and let me tell my story.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again, promise,” he sniggered.

“Sure,” Lance rolled his eyes. “Anyways, I show up at her dorm, and, lo and behold, I only find Rolo there, smoking pot on the couch! And he’s like ‘Bruuuuhhhhh’ and I’m like ‘Duuuddeee, where’s Nyma?’ and he says she’s out getting snacks – which I think she might have gotten caught and suspended for smoking while she was out, believe it or not – and then invites _me_ to hang out with him as a ‘reward’, and of course, I’m a little freshman who’s finally away from home and has no one to tell me what to do, so I do it! When else am I going to get the chance to hang out with a senior!?” His eyes were wide and his hands were stretched to the sky – Lance never held back any expression. “And so we’re just total vegetables for the rest of the afternoon, and Hunk shows up to come rescue me, and Rolo’s like ‘Dude, Nyma, where’s the snacks?’ and I say ‘HUNK, you darling, beautiful, chef! Snacks!’ and Hunk makes us like, the best food I’ve ever eaten, and I can’t even remember what it was!” he laughed. “And after that, Rolo just decided to start inviting us to everything! Hunk’s a good kid and doesn’t like to come with me, but I usually make him. Only, yesterday, you got to have that honor!”

“I feel so blessed,” Keith said flatly.

“You should,” Lance asserted, waggling his eyebrows. “Speaking of Rolo’s party, that brings me to my next question. Do you remember anything at all from last night?” Lance gave Keith a nervous look.

“Not really; why, should I?” Keith reflected Lance’s expression.

“Well, I thought you should know that Drunk Keith told me you were gay. And that only Pidge knows. So now, well, Pidge _and_ Lance know,” he explained. Lance glanced back and forth from Keith to the ground.

A look of horror – or more likely, embarrassment – rushed across Keith’s face, followed by a deep blush, and a full body cringe. Keith was now rolled into a ball on his side, groaning loudly. “Naturally, the fucking FIRST time I get drunk I decide to go and OUT myself,” he exasperated. “Does anyone else know?”

“Well, maybe several people that were on the porch with us. But it’s a fifty/fifty chance that they even remember, dude!” Lance placated. Keith groaned again.

“I’m gonna have to run away from college. Goddammit. Lance, do you understand how dangerous it is to be gay in _Georgia_?” Keith looked like he might have a breakdown.

“Woah, woah, Keith. Calm down. Everything is okay,” Lance soothed. He pulled Keith into a hug. “Only a bunch of college kids know. They probably don’t give a shit. And I like to think I understand a little bit, I _am_ bi,” he continued, saying whatever he could think of to comfort Keith. What do you say to someone who outed themselves mistakenly?

Keith pulled away a bit. “You’re… what?” Lance saw something flicker in his eyes. Thoughts were obviously flying a million miles a minute in Keith’s head, and all Lance wanted to do was have Keith _relax_.

“Yeah, I’m bi. Not gonna limit myself on what fine piece of ass I can find, I’ll love them all,” he joked lightly. Lance brushed Keith’s bangs away from his eyes, not unlike he did _last_ Saturday night. Keith had a small smile, almost like he was in wonder of Lance’s reveal. And his _eyes._ They were stunning, in case Lance hadn’t told you yet. Lance wasn’t sure how long they sat that way, just that it took him longer than it should have to realize they were close enough that Lance could count every eyelash on Keith’s lid. His arms still rested around Keith, who also held Lance close. Their noses almost touched, and Lance could feel Keith’s exhales on his own lips. Lance began to close his eyes and close the small gap, but then a familiar, bright, white light glared around them. He felt himself begin to rise. _It’s probably the kiss_ , he thought, but his consciousness began to slip and the darkness fell.

\-----

“Lance…? Lance!” Keith yelled. The clearing was bathed in blinding light from above. Wind whipped around Keith as he reached out to Lance, who was beginning to float towards the light source – Keith couldn’t even look at it straight on, it was so bright. Lance’s eyes were closed and he just _let go_ like everything was okay. “Lance! Wake up! What’s happening?” Keith cried. The other boy was now out of Keith’s reach. Lance disappeared from Keith’s vision, and another flash of bright light followed. Keith looked up to the sky, finding the afterimage of something large and kite-shaped – _the UFO_. Lance had been _abducted._

“Lance!” he howled, in shock. The night returned to its former, quiet state. Birds cawed in the forest around him. The breeze blew gently. The embers glowed dimly and the stars glittered innocently. Lance was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...cliffhanger.


	8. Bottom of the Ninth

“Lance…” Keith had fallen too his knees, still in shock after some indeterminate amount of time. He held Lance’s phone, which must have fallen out during the abduction. He looked out into the valley, where lights that had previously turned on, flickered off – including the ball field complex stadium lights. He finally pulled out his own phone, speed dialing Pidge’s number.

“Oh, so the deserter finally decides to grace me with his presence. How’s the camping date going?” Her voice crackled through the iffy service.

“Pidge, Lance is gone,” Keith stammered.

“Lance is what?”

“ _Gone,_ Pidge, he’s gone!” Keith felt the panic rush over him again.

“Gone where?” Pidge sounded concerned.

“The UFO, the light, he floated away, it took him!”

“Woah, Keith, calm down. Are you saying Lance got _abducted_?” she asked.

“Yes? I don’t know! Pidge, he’s _gone_ ,” Keith repeated.

“Keith, text Shiro to come pick me up and we’ll come get you, okay? I’m sure we’ll find Lance, he has to have gone _somewhere_ ,” she instructed. Keith hung up, did as he was told, and sat by the dying fire. The embers hardly glowed anymore. Keith wrapped his arms around his knees. He knew aliens were real, he had seen them, he had pictures of their ship, but it was just so much more frightening when he knew they would steal people. What could they be doing to Lance?

Roughly an hour later, Keith heard Shiro’s truck rumbling down the dirt road through the woods. Keith stood. The headlights strobed through the trees, and the truck parked next to Keith’s motorcycle. The bike looked scrawny and beat up next to Shiro’s shiny silver F-150. Pidge hopped out of the passenger side and immediately began to survey the area for traces of electromagnetic radiation and other UFO-related phenomena. Shiro ran to Keith and held him in a tight embrace. He pulled back and held Keith’s face almost too tightly. The cold pressure of Shiro’s right hand felt odd. “Keith, what happened? Pidge told me Lance was gone,” Shiro demanded.

“I _said_ he was abducted!” Pidge called from across the clearing.

“Pidge, we don’t have time for your alien show, this is serious!”

“I _am_ serious, Shiro!” she argued. “The UFO has definitely been here, it left evidence fucking everywhere,” she said, gesturing at some unperceivable alien traces in the general area of the clearing.

“She’s right, Shiro, they took him, right from my arms!” Keith insisted. “We were talking, and he told me I told him I was gay when I was drunk last night and then he told me he was bi and we were hugging and then the light just took him!” He had gone over the scene an innumerable amount of times in his head before Shiro had arrived.

“You were drunk last night? Keith! I told you to be responsible!” Shiro chastised.

“Shiro, that’s what you choose to take from this conversation?” Keith stepped away. “We need to go find Lance! He’s gone!” He began to pace.

Shiro held the bridge of his nose. “Okay, okay, everybody calm down. If Lance has really been abducted, how do you expect us to find him?” Shiro asked. He raised a good point. Keith made some indiscernible noises that may have been frustration, but also panic. Pidge took this opportunity to rejoin the group and offer her brilliant solution.

“Keith, remember that séance we had on campus? Remember how we found the ghost?” She tucked the radiation detector back into her book bag.

“Yeah, we used some gizmo you invented to broadcast the energy of a trigger object and attract the spirit,” Keith nodded. “But what good will that do here? Aliens aren’t ghosts, and we don’t even know what brought them here anyways.”

“Well, what if we reversed the broadcaster? So that it would search for objects that emit the same energy as the object we have? If we get something of Lance’s, something that means a lot to him, the energy it emits should be similar to Lance’s spirit itself,” she explained. “And since he’s alive, his spirit ought to be easier to detect!”

“That… could work. Are you mad-scientist enough for it, Pidge?” Keith asked. He knew she was clever, but he was always worried that one day he would ask for too much.

“I’m offended, Rose, that you underestimate me.”

“Okay, fine, I believe in you. Don’t call me that,” Keith grumbled. He started towards the truck.

“Wait, wait, wait. Pidge, you just said we needed something that means a lot to Lance. Where are we going to get that?” Shiro asked, always the voice of reason to prevent these kids from running off without a plan.

Keith pulled Lance’s phone from his pocket. “Won’t this work, Pidge?”

She thought for a moment. “It might, but I worry that the cell tower waves could interrupt the detector. We need something non-electronic.” Keith frowned. He didn’t have anything on him that qualified.

“Let me call Hunk – his friend from the concession stand, remember? – he probably has something usable,” Keith suggested. He opened Lance’s phone – the idiot’s code was 1234, like a noob. How can anyone think that’s secure? He found Hunk’s contact ( _Hunkaroni_ ) and pressed call.

“Lance, what the hell. It’s like –“Keith heard the ruffling of blankets. “– two in the morning.”

“It’s Keith,” he clarified.

“What? What happened to Lance?” Hunk sounded more awake.

“He got abducted by aliens. We don’t know where he is right now, but we have a way to find him. We need something sentimental to him,” Keith said as quickly as he could.

“Aliens?!” Hunk now sounded very scared. “Keith, how did this happen? You didn’t try to find them, right? Because that’s – “

“No! I didn’t do it on purpose! Just help me, Hunk, we need to get Lance back!” The manic edge to his voice had returned.

“Okay, Keith, I understand, hang on. What do you need?” He heard some soft racket from Hunk’s end – he must be moving around the dorm.

“We need something that means a lot to Lance, like a favorite shirt, or a trophy, or a gift from someone important, you know?” Keith elaborated. “When you find it, can you meet us at the physics lab in like, an hour?”

“Uh, sure. Why the physics lab?”

“Pidge needs to build an energy tracker,” he answered.

“Oh, ok, sounds good. See you guys after a while,” Hunk yawned. Keith heard the call disconnect.

Shiro glanced between Keith and Pidge quizzically. “So, what’s the plan?”

\-----

After racing home at a comfortable and legal speed (“Shiro, you need to drive faster.” “Keith, these curves are tight and I’m not going to crash this car.” “But you’re going ten miles below the speed limit.” “Shush, Pidge.” “Shiro, at least go the speed limit” “Yeah, we’re kinda in a hurry.” “ _Fine_. And Pidge, put on your seatbelt.”), the trio tossed Keith’s bike into Pidge’s garage, then grabbed the broadcaster from Pidge’s dad’s office. They raced over to Garrison, and ran to science building, where Hunk waited patiently outside. He was wearing pajamas.

“What’d you get for us, Hunk?” Pidge asked. She held the somewhat large broadcaster in her arms, attempting to see around it. Hunk held up a green, canvas jacket as they walked inside (all the labs were open through the night – lots of kids needed access when they didn’t have time during the day).

“This was a hand-me-down from Lance’s older brother. I think it was, like, a high school graduation gift or something? I’m not sure, but it’s his favorite jacket,” Hunk told them.

“Perfect!” Pidge said as she set the broadcasting equipment on a desk. She folded the jacket into a neat square, testing to see if it would fit in the object chamber – it did. She began to tinker with the mechanical and circuit board area of the broadcaster. Hunk joined in, offering an engineer’s advice once she explained how the invention should work. Shiro and Keith rested nervously against another desk. Keith fiddled with his hair and the snaps on his fingerless gloves.

“This is really cool, Pidge, what else have you built?” Hunk asked her, shining a flashlight into the dark nooks and crannies of the broadcaster. She continued adjusting mechanics with what looked like the world’s smallest screwdriver.

“I have a robotic cat at home, I upgraded a lot of the equipment in the student radio station, and I did Shiro’s prosthetic, too,” she listed with a proud smirk. Shiro waved with his incredibly flexible right arm.

“Holy crow, seriously? How old are you? That’s like, NASA level technology,” Hunk praised.

“Thanks! I’m eighteen,” she replied. “What can I say, I’m a prodigy.” She grinned, showing all her front teeth. Pidge was very proud of her extreme talent. She plugged a wire connected to a small satellite dish into the main console, causing a small LED screen to light up. “Okay, I think it’s working. Have you got anything on you that belongs to Lance?”

Keith held up Lance’s phone again. “We still have this,” he said. Hunk shook his head – he didn’t bring anything else with him.

“It’ll have to do for now,” Pidge approved. She held the satellite dish about two feet from the phone – the broadcaster-turned-detector beeped and lit up like a Christmas tree. “Okay, looks good. Let’s head out,” she commanded. Hunk grabbed the console, following behind Overlord Pidge. She passed Keith and Shiro with the dish, when the console lit up briefly.

“What was that?” Shiro asked. Pidge held up the dish, running it past Keith again on a hunch. She grinned mischievously when the screen beeped again.

“Lance cares about you, Keith,” she teased. “He left some spiritual residue on you. Gross!” she cackled. Hunk snickered – he knew what was up. Keith felt his cheeks and ears burn.

“Shut up, Pidge,” he demanded weakly. She laughed some more.

“Okay, loverboy. Just stay behind me while we search so you don’t fuck up the signal,” she instructed. Shiro ushered them out of the science building, where they began their search. Hunk steered them away from their dorm, where Lance kept many a sentimental object, and they settled on a faint signal to the east.

“I don’t think he’s here, guys. Are you sure the detector works?” Shiro was worried. He didn’t usually voice his negative thoughts, but it was beginning to become painful to watch Keith and Hunk search for Lance. It was almost five in the morning, and the best lead they had was a signal from the baseball field. Shiro, being a coach, was able to let them in, but all they found was a concentration of energy at home plate. No Lance. Still, Keith insisted that the UFO liked to be at the ball field, and demanded that they scour the whole complex just in case.

“It works, Shiro. It just means they haven’t released Lance, yet,” Pidge shouted from the outfield. Hunk stood beside her with the detector. Shiro sat in the bleachers. Keith was exploring the neighboring field. Just then, the blinding white light made its appearance - although, this time, it didn’t seem to be right on top of the group. Shiro heard Keith yell something incoherent, and then the light was gone, as quickly as it came.

“Keith? Keith! Are you okay?” Shiro yelled. He saw Keith burst onto the field.

“I’m fine!”

That’s when the detector started to flash and beep, even brighter than when Pidge scanned Lance’s phone. “Guys, I think he’s out there!” Pidge called, pointing beyond the wooden fence. The kids sprinted towards the gate.

“Wait!” Shiro shouted. They skidded to a halt. He ran to the concession stand and back, returning with a large, LED lantern. He dashed to the edge of the field, offering light to the small party. They ventured into the dark meadow, unsure what they would find.

The console beeped and flashed loudly, leading them farther and farther from the ball field. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the sky was turning grey and pink in the distance. They crested the hill, and at the bottom of the other side, they saw Lance standing alone.

“Lance!” Keith cried, racing down the hill, nearly tripping several times. He slammed full force into the skinny abductee, trapping him in a tight hug. He let go moments later, only to grab Lance’s face and kiss the living shit out of him. “I was so worried about you,” Keith gasped, pulling away.

“You promised ‘no aliens’, asshole,” Lance mumbled jokingly. Then, he passed out, leaning heavily on Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are nearly at the end, my friends...
> 
> i've been thinking about some mini companion fics to go with this, would anyone be interested? they'd just be small stories in the same universe (possibly a sequel... but that idea is not complete)


	9. Whatever Happened to Strike 3?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! here we are! last chapter!! thank u for reading all the way through, its so exciting that some people are interested in my fluffy trash haha
> 
> enjoy!!

Shiro carried Lance back to the bleachers – he was the only one big and strong enough to gather up Lance’s lanky figure effectively. When they arrived, Keith insisted on holding Lance in his lap until he came to. The others tried to convince him to let them take Lance to the hospital, but Keith wasn’t having it. They resolved to wait until Lance could tell them how he felt.

It didn’t take long for Lance to awaken, and before he could say anything, Hunk scooped him into a big bear hug. “I’m so happy you’re okay, man, I was so scared you’d come back mutilated,” Hunk cried – tears literally streamed down his face.

“Nah, I told you, buddy, ball players are no good for aliens,” Lance comforted weakly. “Why are you in your pajamas?”

“Keith called me while I was in bed,” Hunk explained. Lance turned to Keith.

“Where did you get Hunk’s number?” he asked suspiciously. Keith held out Lance’s phone.

“You dropped this. Also, I think you need a different passcode,” Keith teased. Lance took the phone back, tucking in in his pants pocket.

“I could have you arrested, Keith. That’s an invasion of privacy,” Lance tsked. He shook his head at the accused.

“Please, it’s not like I saw anything bad.”

“Let me know if you want to.” Lance winked. Keith blushed – and scowled.

“Gross, Lance,” Pidge chimed in.

“Lance, are you okay? Do we need to take you to the hospital?” Shiro asked. He looked very concerned for Lance’s safety – who knows what the aliens did to him.

“I’m fit as a fiddle, just really tired –“Lance answered as he sat down.

“What happened up there? Did they run any tests on you? What did they look like?” Pidge fired off as soon as Lance confirmed he was okay. She pulled out her phone to record the interview. The others sat, suspecting that the story would take a while to tell. Lance cleared his throat.

“Well, it went down like this…”

\-----

Due to Lance’s tendency to exaggerate, the editor of this narrative has chosen to replace Lance’s recount of the tale with the third-person limited perspective. Please enjoy.

\-----

Lance awoke in a small, very cold chamber. His thoughts were fuzzy, but he could recall camping out with Keith. What happened?

His breath was fogging up the glass in front of him. He pulled down a sleeve to wipe off the condensation, when the window just dissolved right in front of him. He pulled back.

A familiar voice rang, “Oh wonderful, you’re awake!”

“Allura?” Bright blue and white light shone down into a large, round room. He squinted to see Hunk’s boss standing at some sort of futuristic podium. Next to her stood Coran, the janitor. They both wore Cinderella-type outfits; fancy, blue, high-class dress clothes. “What’s going on? I’m dreaming, right? Or crazy? I must be crazy, only explanation.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Lance! We are what you earthlings call aliens, believe it or not! We hail from the planet Altea, and are looking to begin diplomatic relations with Earth,” Coran informed. “But there’s been a slight mishap, and that’s why we brought you here.” He was twirling his mustache, as per usual, but the facial hair seemed much stretchier than Lance remembered.

Lance stepped out of the cold chamber. “Okay…” He kept his distance from the aliens, though. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed that Allura’s hair had changed. It was now a silvery-white, rather than the silky black he already knew. She pulled it off beautifully – although, with a face like hers, she could make anything look good. He also noticed that she and Coran’s ears had become pointed and elf-like.

“Do you remember the night several quintants ago, when you were batting?” Allura asked. She stepped away from the podium, approaching Lance confidently. Lance straightened his posture – he knew who she was, right? He knew how to handle a beautiful lady whether she was human or not.

“Yeah, why? Did you like what you saw?” He slipped into the usual flirty banter he used when speaking with Allura. He knew he saw the UFO – which he was aboard, now, he assumed – that night, so it seemed reasonable that she might have seen him and his awesome batting skills. She rolled her eyes.

“The last ball you hit damaged one of our engines,” she continued. “We have since fixed the issue, but Coran and I – as positive adult role models in your life – have discussed a consequence for the damage.”

“Yes!” Coran bubbled. “We’d like to have you mop the floor in the ballroom as recompense, and then you’ll be on your merry way!”

“But I couldn’t even see the ship! How was I supposed to avoid hitting it?” Lance protested.

“I suggest you aim lower, Lance,” Allura warned playfully. Lance groaned.

“Don’t forget, you also made me clean up Keith’s sick when you left! As much as I love cleaning, this seems a lovely trade,” Coran smiled. He led Lance down a hall with very high ceilings – the whole ship appeared to be some kind of glowing, futuristic cathedral. They entered another large, round room, with a staircase leading to an enormous set of double doors. Lance gawked at the sheer size of the ballroom.

Coran pulled a mop and bucket – the same that he used at the ball field, strangely – and a broom from a closet nearby. “Now, I’ll sweep, and you follow behind with the mop!”

“Yeah, okay.” Coran was Lance’s friend. He probably owed the old man all kinds of favors for various reasons, so he figured this was fair. He mopped after Coran obediently, half-listening to his many tales of adventure. Turns out that he was some sort of ambassador, and that Allura was a princess. They had been to all kinds of planets throughout the galaxy, recruiting for the Space UN or whatever. Coran tended to drone, so Lance also got lost in his own thoughts (especially when he felt this sleepy).

He and Keith were about to kiss when the white light appeared. Lance couldn’t remember if they had or not. He hoped that they _had_ kissed; Keith is an adorable little shit. He wants to kiss Keith every day. And wake up cradled in his arms. Learn more about cryptids and aliens and ghosts for him. Teach him how to play baseball or something. Take him to concerts and restaurants and parks like a real boyfriend. He’d have to ask Keith out on a real date when he got home.

“– Now, my _fourth_ cleaning stripe I earned during my sophomore year at –“

“Coran, we finished mopping, can I go home now?” Lance yawned. He stretched and scratched the back of his head. He was so tired – it must have been four or five o’ clock by now, Lance could feel it.

“Of course, of course! This way, Lance!” Coran led him back into the room with the cold chamber. He instructed Lance to stand inside one – there were several, arranged in a circle around the room – and went to stand at the podium. As Coran pressed several buttons, Lance’s vision went dark again.

\-----

“And the next thing I remember is Keith slamming into me,” he concluded, glancing at the slightly smaller boy.

“Holy shit! That’s awesome! Lance, can we have you on the radio show on Tuesday? This will make the best finale show, won’t it, Keith?” Pidge gushed. Keith nodded.

“Uh, yeah, I’d be up for that,” Lance agreed.

“We’re going to have to interrogate Coran and Allura, too, and see if they stick to their diplomacy thing at all, and why they chose our town to set up base, and figure out how their cloaking technology works -“Pidge rattled off.

Shiro stood, clapping his hands together. “Okay, it is six in the morning on a Sunday, and I would love to go home and sleep all this craziness away. Get in the truck, I’ll drop you all off,” he commanded. Pidge protested mildly, but she yawned in the middle of her sentence. The tired teenagers shuffled to the silver truck, moving lethargically as the last of the adrenaline wore off. Hunk sat shotgun (Pidge called it, but Hunk claimed he got carsick and Lance backed him up), while Lance, Keith, and Pidge piled in the back. Lance leaned against his window, with his arm around Keith’s shoulders. Keith dozed on Lance’s chest.

“Gross, affection. Shiro, make them stop!” Pidge complained.

“Pidge, they’re not making out. I think you can handle them cuddling for a ten minute car ride,” Shiro maintained. He drove out of the ball field complex parking lot, heading towards the university. Hunk plugged in his phone and played some cheery ukulele music.

As promised, the ride was short. Lance, Hunk, and Keith hopped out of the truck, finding themselves near the quad at the center of campus. Like a good friend, Hunk gave Lance and Keith some privacy by heading back to his dorm ahead of them. Lance gave Keith a big hug.

“Thanks for coming to look for me. And thanks for taking me camping last night. Even though I got abducted by aliens, it wasn’t awful,” he told Keith.

“I think I deserve a little better than ‘wasn’t awful’,” Keith defended. “I set up that camping site all by myself with a hangover!”

“All by yourself?”

“Fine, Pidge was there, but all she did was tease me for liking you too much,” Keith conceded. He felt his ears grow warm as he looked at the ground. Lance laughed.

“So, how much _do_ you like me, exactly?”

“More than you like me, probably,” Keith said sheepishly.

“Is that a challenge?” Lance taunted. He pulled Keith’s chin up, smirking. Keith rolled his eyes.

“I feel like I have to prove this to you now. Keith Kogane, I think you are wonderful, _I_ like _you_ too much (according to Hunk – my Pidge equivalent), and I don’t think you understand correctly,” he declared. Keith blushed furiously. Lance pulled him close, kissed Keith and gave him a run for his money. Both kisses had been spectacular, and neither could wait for their next chance for a repeat performance. Lance pulled away. “ _That’s_ how much I like you.”

“Okay, we’ll call it a draw,” Keith said, swept off his feet. He was so shocked that Lance felt the same way. “So, are we a thing now?”

“I think so,” Lance said, grinning wildly. He took Keith’s hand. “C’mon, you can crash at my place. Hunk will probably be sleeping all day too,” he suggested. Keith followed his new boyfriend’s lead. What a great day – camping, aliens, boyfriend, it could not get better than this.

\-----

“I can’t believe they just disappeared like that!” Pidge complained to Keith. They were in the student radio booth, preparing for their finale show that night. Keith was organizing his notes, as usual. The show started in about fifteen minutes, and they were waiting for Lance to come for his on air interview. They had attempted to find Allura and Coran Sunday night – there was a high school age league playing, so they should have been there for work – but they were nowhere to be found. None of the staff had any recollection that the pair had worked there except Hunk, who couldn’t even remember until Lance and Keith had coaxed the memories out.

“We’ll have to keep a lookout. Lance said Allura had disguised herself, maybe they’ve just gone into hiding,” Keith suggested hopefully. However, he worried that they would never see the UFO again. These events were beginning to sound suspiciously like a Men in Black movie or the X-Files. He hoped no government agents would hunt him and his friends down; the aliens were the foundation for their relationships.

Lance came through the door at this moment, sporting his green canvas jacket and a shirt that said ‘Pizza Slut’ in the Pizza Hut logo style. Keith snorted. “Nice shirt, loser,” he teased.

“Says the man in an ‘I don’t believe in humans’ shirt,” Lance retorted. He pulled up a chair beside Keith, pecking him on the cheek.

“Just because you don’t think it’s funny doesn’t mean it isn’t,” Keith insisted. Pidge snickered.

“Calm down, ladies, you both look very nice,” she mocked. “Lance, you ready for this?”

“I’m always ready for everything.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Take it seriously, Lance. After this, you’ll be known as the Alien Guy or something. People love to make fun of this kind of thing.”

Lance brushed him off. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ve got a thick skin. All adults hate me, why not have my peers hate me too? Besides, I’ve got you, Hunk, and Pidge, and that’s all I really need,” Lance smiled. Keith blushed – he wasn’t used to Lance’s overflowing affection yet. Hunk told him you get used to it, but he’s not sure he’d ever get over someone as perfect as Lance caring so much about him so _loudly._ Pidge gagged.

“Keep the PDA on your side of the table, Keith, I don’t want to catch it,” she ragged. Keith stuck his tongue out at her.

“Fine, I will. But next year when you can’t get some cute person out of your head don’t expect me to keep quiet about it,” he promised.

“I wouldn’t dream of anything less, Rose,” she said sarcastically, in her own, sweet, Pidge way.

“I don’t know why I’m even friends with you, you little shit.”

“You know you love me,” she grinned. They continued chatting for the next several minutes, until the show began. Keith flipped on the On-Air sign, signaled Lance to hush, and gave Pidge her cue.

“Evening, believers. I’m your host, Pidge Holt, and welcome to the late show where we talk about your favorite things that go bump in the night. Tonight, for our finale of the year, we have a very special guest in our studio, a student from our very own Garrison University that had a close encounter of the fourth kind just a few nights ago. For you casual alien fans, that means that he was _abducted._ Stay tuned to hear his incredible and very true story in the next hour – but first, the 1993 X-Files theme song will open the show,” she spoke into the microphone. She smiled supportively to Lance as she pressed a button on the sound board. Keith pulled Lance’s chin close, giving him a good luck kiss. Tonight was going to be legendary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end...?


	10. announcement

ayyyyy what's up my dudes??

 

just wanted to say that i decided to make a series out of this AU because i love it so much and i keep coming up with ideas for it

(if you've read DeerStalkerDeathFrisbee's True Love or Something, which i highly recommend, think something like that)

 

the second part is going up now! thank you for being interested!!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!!!! feedback and kudos are greatly appreciated!!!


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